A Powerful Thing
by kmsutton92
Summary: "If things had been different, would you still be here?"  She knows she should stop.  She knows she should release her hold on the man looking at her, but she can't bring herself to do it.  "Of course I would be.  I love you."  He's lying.
1. Forget

She stares at him. His body is resting next to hers; their clothing is littering the floor. His body has been there for nearly three years now. But he's turned away form her, facing the wall. She reaches out, her hand resting on his shoulder. His body tenses, but he does not move. Tears begin to brim in her eyes, and she opens her mouth to begin. It's a ritual, something that they've done since their wedding, since he promised he would be there with her. She's hoping that one day, one day she'll ask him, and he'll tell her what she wants to hear. And that when he tells her, he means it.

"If things had been different, would you still be here?"

She's sitting up now, pulling the white sheets up over her bare body, looking down at him. She can only see the side of his face. Until he sits up, at least. He looks at her, blue eyes that show no youth. He's not the man of her childhood, and she knows why. He doesn't want to be here. He wants to be with _her_. He's here because he feels like it's his duty. Blue eyes bore into hers, and she tucks a lock of brown hair behind her ear, waiting. Any minute now, he'll say it, and she'll accept it, knowing it's a lie. They've been through this before. She knows she should stop. She knows she should release her hold on the man looking at her, but she can't bring herself to do it.

"Of course I would be. I love you."

He says it, but she can see it in his eyes. He's lying. And tonight, the lie isn't good enough. She wants the truth, though she knows it will hurt. She wants him to be honest with her. Up until this point, it's been easy to pretend it's true. It's been easy to pretend that he really loves her. It's been easy to pretend that he's not here because he feels like he ought to be. It's been so easy. She makes herself believe it. He plays the part well enough. So does she.

"Liar. Tell me the truth. Just once, tell me."

He looks at her, red hair shining in the moonlight that falls across their bed from the window. It's a full moon. Somewhere, a man or woman or child is being turned into a monster. A creature with the need to feed. A need they can't control. Some of them might be enjoying it, enjoying the pain that it supposed to come with werewolf transformations. Some of them might have taken a potion, and are wolves. Wolves with the minds of men, women, and children. And some might be ashamed. She looks at him as he speaks.

"You don't want to here the truth, love. Just go to bed."

The phrase infuriates her.

"Tell me! Damn it, tell me the truth!"

She is shouting, becoming hysterical. There is a silencing charm on there room. It is still there. Her yelling won't be heard by anyone except the two of them. He looks at her, a sad smile on his face.

"No. If things had been different, I'd be with her. You know that."

Tears well up in her eyes, and this time she is the one to look away. This time she is the one to lie down and turn on her side, staring at the wall. On the other side, a cry issues from the other room. She stands up. Another cry joins the first. Two cries, two individuals. Calling out for her and the man who has just told her that he doesn't love her. That if things had been different, he wouldn't be there at that moment. She reaches for her robe, and he is pulling on his boxers. The charm on the room is removed, and silently they leave the room.

"Shh. Baby it's okay. Mummy's here."

Across the room, he has joined their daughter at her bedside. The child is three, nearly four. She'll be four in two months. They have named her Annica. Her hair is red. Her eyes are blue. Her freckles are highly visible. She looks at the two. Father and daughter. He's holding his little girl, and she says something about a monster. A great white dragon. He's soothing the little girl, and he picks her up, carrying her into the master bedroom. She follows her husband, their son in her arms. She lies down in the bed with him, the two children between them. They bought a large bed just for this purpose, and so that in the beginning, they would not have to touch.

"I love you Daddy."

Tears are brimming in the eyes of the mother as her daughter says it, and as he responds. He loves that little girl. He loves her so much. She had hoped that over time, he would come to love her too. But he hadn't. He is with her because of Annica, and because of Andrew. Annie and Andy. How quaint. The baby falls asleep, and she looks down at him, thinking. Then she looks at Annica, and then at her husband.

"I'm sorry."

She says it without meaning to. He says nothing. He's feigning sleep, and she squeezes her eyes shut as she tries to remember why she had thought it was a good idea. She had been so stupid. As if a two day supply of love potion would really make him love her. She had had it all planned out. He would be infatuated with her, she would convince him to sleep with her. And then, a few months later, she would have the control she wanted.

"You should be."

His voice is soft, so as not to wake the children. But it's also bitter, and she knows that he resents her. It had worked exactly as she had planned it. He hadn't been with that girl when she had turned up at his doorstep with the test results. It was a girl, and it was his. Just as she had hoped, he had married her. No child of his would grow up without a father, whether the child had been conceived while he was unable to think clearly or not.

"I am."

Annica had been born six months later. She was every bit his baby. No one could deny it. That woman hadn't been allowed near him. Or the baby. Or the mother. He had hated her for it. He was there, not for her, but for the baby. She had continued to believe that one day, one day he would come to love her. All thoughts of the other woman would be driven from his head.

"You shouldn't have done it."

They'd feigned a happy marriage. At home, however, he refused to speak to her. He played with Annica, laughed with Annica. Annica was his baby, someone he loved. His wife was just someone he was stuck with. Someone he had married so he could be able to see his daughter. Because she wouldn't have allowed him otherwise.

"I know that now. You can leave if you'd like."

In the beginning, he had refused to have any type of sexual contact. Within a year, however, his resolve was cracking. It wasn't that he wanted her, but that he wanted some type of touch. He wanted a woman's touch. The first time, it wasn't her name he had cried out, but _her_ name. She had been furious, livid.

"No, I can't. They know you. They love you. And I can't take them from you."

Andrew had come by accident. They had forgotten the charm. Three months later, she found that she was pregnant, this time with a boy. Annica was excited, her father wasn't. It was another thing that tied him to her, the woman he had married. He had loved Andrew all the same. He loves him the same way he loves Annica. The same way he loves _that woman_ whose name he still calls in the night.

"They're young. They won't know. They won't remember when they're older. You don't have to tell the truth. I couldn't bear to see them anyway. You didn't want them. They weren't created out of love. Mutual love, at least."

She loves her husband, oh yes. He had never loved her, though. And he never would. It will always be _she_ who held his heart. Not his wife. She hates her for that. She looks at the two sleeping children once more, and then at her husband. She loves him. Oh how she loves him. And she was keeping him prisoner here. She had created his jail the minute she had slipped him the potion and caused the creation of their daughter.

"They love you. I can't take them from you. Go to sleep. Pretend it's real."

She says nothing. She lays there for several minutes. When she is sure her husband is asleep, she stands up. Pillows next to the baby, so he won't roll off of the bed, charmed to stay in place. She looks at the three of them, the three she loves most, and waves her wand. Her things begin to pack themselves silently.

"I can't."

She answers him now, knowing he won't hear. Once her things are packed, she reaches for ink and parchment. When she is finished, she leaves the note attached to the pillows, along with the ring he had given her. She kisses her son, kisses her daughter, and kisses her husband. What would he think in the morning, when he awoke and found the note? What would the children think? She didn't know. She didn't want to know. It was easier to forget.

"Forget."

She raises her wand to her forehead, and thinks hard. Every memory of him, of the children. All of it. It had to go. She knows it could go horribly wrong. But if it doesn't, she'll be free. Maybe she ought to do the children first? No. No. She wants them to remember her, even slightly. But she would not do it here. She would wait until she was gone.

"I love you all."

She opens the bedroom door, and closes it, bags floating behind her. She leaves the house, leaves her children, leaves the man she loved who would never love her. And once she is in London, really in London, she thinks hard. She concentrates, and erases all memories of them from her mind. Lavender Elizabeth Weasley is no more. Lavender Elizabeth Brown is reborn.


	2. The Other Woman

She moves toward the door, surprised. She isn't expecting anyone today. She brushes her hair behind her ears, sighing. She's been working hard lately, hoping to become a professor at Hogwarts. As she moves to the door, her eyes land on the picture on the wall. Harry and Ginny are standing in it, in front of the Burrow. His arm is around her waist, and she's leaning into him. Ginny's other arm is linked with her brother's, and her brother's arm is locked around the waist of a brown haired girl. They all look so happy. The picture was taken four years ago.

"Ron?"

She's surprised to see him, to say the least. She hasn't seen or heard from him since he broke up with her and married Lavender. It had hurt her badly. He had said he loved her. Then he left. He had left, and hadn't even explained it. The next she heard, he had a baby girl. She looks at him, and slams the door in his face.

"Wait, I need to talk to you! I need to see you! Please!"

He sounds desperate, like a man who is broken. She softens slightly, and opens the door. She studies him. He's gotten taller, if that was possible. He looked distinctly older. She fights back a smile, realizing that there's dirt on his nose. How did it get there, she wonders.

"Where's Lavender? And your daughter?"

She's curious in spite of herself. She wants to scream, to kick him out and tell him to never come to her doorstep again. But she knows she won't be able to. He has always been her biggest weakness. His eyes are solemn, desperate. She sighs and sits down in a chair in the living room. Her eyes follow his as he copies her. He's silent for a long moment.

"Lavender left. Annica and Andrew are with my mother."

He's reaching into his pocket, passing her a note. She recognizes the handwriting of his wife, that stupid, annoying woman. The two of them have never gotten along. Even in school. There was always something. The fact was, Lavender was mean when she wanted to be. She was every bit the mean girl in school, gossiping and spreading rumors… Oh, how she had despised the woman. She reads the note, her eyes widening.

"Explain this to me, please."

She thinks back to what he said. Andrew. He has a son as well? She wonders how old he is, if he looks like him or Lavender. She wonders the same thing about the girl. Annica, he said her name was. Annie and Andy. How cute. She wants to gag from the cuteness of it, until she remembers that Lavender left them. All of them. Because she couldn't keep pretending, because she didn't want to keep him prisoner any longer. Because of some other girl. She wonders who she is.

"I didn't want to leave you. I didn't want to hurt you. But I felt I had no choice. She tricked me. She slipped me a love potion at our graduation party. Two days worth. Remember that I was missing for a bit? I slept with her, without realizing that I didn't want to. I screamed at her when I came to my senses, got mad at her for tricking me, and I came back to you."

She stares at him as he speaks. Lavender had sunk that low? She was so desperate that she slipped him a love potion? How pathetic. The vile woman was so pathetic. She suddenly felt that she knew how the story ended, but she nodded. She wanted to hear him say it.

"A few months later, she turned up at my flat. She was pregnant, it was a girl, and she was mine. She had the papers, had the proof. I couldn't deny it. She told me that if I wanted to see the baby, I had to be with her. Only her. I left you, I married her, and I was miserable, waiting. The baby was born, we named her Annica. She looked just like me. Any chances that the test had been wrong were shot. I was stuck."

She listens as he continues to speak. There it was, the reasoning behind him leaving. Somehow, it did make her feel better. It wasn't his fault. She had tricked him, and then blackmailed him. That devil woman. She wondered about the second baby.

"In public, I pretended I loved her. At home, I wouldn't touch her. I wouldn't kiss her. I was still so in love with you, thinking of you. A couple of years went by, and I started to give in to weakness. It wasn't because I loved her, but because I wanted a woman's touch. I needed something. The whole time I pretended it was you. I called your name. After that, it became a regular thing. Each time I pretended it was you. But I didn't call your name again. She got pregnant once more. A boy this time. We named him Andrew."

She knows the rest. It isn't hard to figure out. It got to be too much for Lavender. The fact that her husband didn't love her got to her, and she finally gave up. She left him with the children, and had probably removed her memory by now. She looked at Ron.

"I'm the other woman, aren't I?"

She knows she is, but she wants to hear him say it. She wants to hear him acknowledge that he still loved her when he left. That he still loves her to this day. She knows she should feel sorry for Lavender, but she can't bring herself to do it. Lavender has caused her too much pain, forcing him to end things and marry her instead.

"Yes, you are."

She looks at him, sighing softly. He's expecting her to let him back into her life without a care. He's expecting her to let him and his children into her life as if things never went wrong. The thing that scares her is that she wants to.

"Can I see Annica and Andrew?"

She watches him nod, and she stands up. She moves to the fireplace, and he's not far behind her. She reaches for the floo powder, and he slides his arm around her waist. His lips meet hers, and she sinks into it, remembering the last time she kissed him. When she pulls away, she knows that she will let him back into her life. She will love his children like they're her own. And all because love is more powerful than pain and deception.


	3. A New Family

_Ron,_

_I was wrong. I never should have done it. Any of it. It was the actions of a madwoman. I'm lucky you didn't have me locked away. I never should have tricked you, I see that now._

_For the past four years I've been perfectly content to pretend that you love me. But tonight, the first night you've spoken the truth, I've realized I can't do it any longer. What happens when the children are grown? You'll leave. It might be too late for you to go back to her by then, and that means I took away any chance of a family with someone you love._

_I love you, though you may not believe it. I was driven to do a crazy thing because of that love, but I shouldn't have. You've stayed with me for the sake of Annica, and then for Andrew. I can't keep you prisoner any longer._

_I have a plan. After you read this, don't try and find me. Go and find her. Take the children with you, and find her. If she's anything like I remember her, shell let you back into her life. Especially after you explain. The children will grow up with her as their mother._

_Don't come looking for me. If my plan works, I won't remember you or them anyway. If it doesn't, I won't remember anything. Please, just don't seek me out. Go to her. Love her. Love her like you could never love me._

_Lavender_

He stares at the letter again. He had found it three years ago, her wedding ring lying on top of it. When he had first found it, he had been unsure of what to do. Now he had two children, and no mother to help raise them. Andrew had started crying first thing, toddling around and looking for his Mummy. Annica had been less upset, but she still hadn't understood. Mummy was just gone, and there was nothing they could do about it.

He had grabbed some things and headed to his mother's house. She was delighted to see him and the children, and they played in the living room while Ron explained everything that had happened. He explained why he had married Lavender, why he had stayed, and that she had gone. He had shown his mother the note, and she had only had one question. Who was the other girl?

"Ron?"

A soft voice interrupts his reminiscing, and he grins to himself. He stands up, tucking the letter away. When Annica starts Hogwarts, he's going to tell her about Lavender. Until then, she's better off not knowing. She's still too young. Six going on seven is too young to tell her the truth. He'll tell Andrew when he turns eleven as well. He'll have to ask Annica not to mention it to her little brother.

"Coming baby."

He heads down the stairs of his new home. Four bedrooms. There's one for Annica, one for Andrew, one for he and his wife, and one for the baby who's on the way. They're going to name her Rose. Rose Lavender Weasley, because even though his wife still doesn't like Lavender very much, she understands why Lavender did the things she did. She understands it.

"Daddy!"

Andrew comes running up to him, and he picks the little boy up. Annica is standing by her mother. Or, rather, the woman that she thinks is her mother. He is still unsure of whether or not Annica remembers Lavender even in the slightest. Andrew was too young. Is still too young. The woman holding Annica's hand is the only mother that he has ever known. The only mother he'll ever remember.

He grins at Annica, and at his wife. He's so much happier now, but he still wonders what happened to Lavender. He's assuming that she modified her memory, erased all memories of him, of the children. It's extreme, but that's what he thinks. She must have done it properly, because she wasn't taken to St. Mungo's. He's checked everyday for the past three years. He and Lavender made better friends than husband and wife, or boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Come on, Ron. The party will be starting soon."

Ah, the party. Bill's little girl is turning five today. She's an angel. Strawberry blonde hair, her mother's flawless skin. She doesn't look distinctly veela, but you can tell that it's there. She's already learning to control the charm she has. She charms everyone she meets. A sweet smile, a soft giggle. There are times that she seems to glow. Yes, Victoire is a cutie, and she'll be a heartbreaker when she grows up.

"Alright, let's go."

He presses a hand to his wife's bulging stomach. A few more months, and Andrew will be a big brother, and Annica will have the little sister she's been wanting since she was five. He hopes that Rose will look like him, the way Annica and Andrew do. But he won't mind if she looks like Hermione. He looks at Andrew in his arms.

He looks at Andrew. Of his two children, Andy is the one who looks the least like him. Oh, he has the hair and the eyes and the freckles, but his facial structure is so much more like Lavender. He sees her in everything that his little boy does. Still grinning, he turns on the spot and apparates.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…"

They're already singing when they arrive, and he lets Andrew down so that he can go and play with Matthew, Charlie's boy. He's a year younger than Andrew. He moves to his wife, resting his hand on the small of her back. He leans in for a kiss, still grinning. She kisses him for a moment and then pulls back. Annica is standing next to Victoire, and she is blowing out the younger girl's candles. Now Victoire is throwing a fit, and hitting Annica, and Bill's stepping in to stop it all.

"I love you."

He grins at her as he says it, and Hermione smiles back.

"I love you too."

That's all he needs to hear.


	4. Hysterics

"I don't want to be in Slytherin! What if I'm in Slytherin?"

She watches the eleven year old from a distance, hair tucked inside of her coat. She wishes that the spell hadn't fallen through. She had been so happy for those first few years. Now she isn't. Now she's haunted by the memory of them, of her ex husband and her children. She watches Annica as she looks at her father worriedly.

"If you're in Slytherin we'll disown you."

She watches the look on the girl's face as she looks terrified. The brown haired woman who is following Ron and Annica frowns, and Lavender can hear her chastise the man for saying it. The party comes to a halt, and the woman kneels down in front of Annica as families bustle by, children taking their seats on the train. She watches as the woman tells Annica not to worry, that her Daddy is joking, that it won't matter if she's in Slytherin. Ron's voice reaches her ears again as she draws closer.

"You don't have to worry about it Annie. There's never been a Weasley put in anything but Gryffindor. You're safe."

Lavender watches as her daughter's face brightens, and then turns her eyes to the other two children. There's Andrew. He's about nine now. Maybe eight. Following him is another girl. She looks to be about four. This child isn't familiar, and as Lavender watches, she knows that this is the child of Ron and Hermione Weasley. She can see Hermione in the child's features. But she can see Ron too. Oh yes. All three children have red hair, but the younger girl's hair is bushier. Her nose is Hermione's. Yes, she can see the differences.

"Don't run off Andy!"

The little boy is giggling now, running toward someone he recognizes, another child. He's lost in the crowd of people, and Lavender can see the worried look on that husband stealer's face. Ron is telling her that he'll be alright. Lavender smirks to herself. They'd see, they'd all see. As Andrew passes her, she silences and stuns him. She grabs him and apparates, leaving the scene behind.

"It's okay, honey. Mummy's here now."

The little boy sitting on the bed is crying. He says he wants his Mummy. He wants to go home. He doesn't want to be here with her. He wants to see Rosie. Lavender only smiles. Oh, he'll see his sister, but not Rose. No, not Rose. Instead, Lavender will find a way to get to Annica. Annica is the only true sister he has.

"Rose is only your half sister. You two have a different Mummy."

He protests, and she laughs softly. She shows him toys. She's been building rooms for her children for three years now, ever since the memory charm stopped working. Ron has Rose. He doesn't need Annie or Andy. He didn't even want them. She looks at Andrew, he's watching her, still wary. She wants to see him smile. She says that his Mummy will be there soon. He brightens up. He plays with the toys, plays with the toy broomstick. He says he's hungry.

"Who are you? Why is my Mummy coming here?"

She looks at the boy as she walks back into the room with his sandwich. What should she tell him? She'll tell him the truth. Yes, yes, she'll tell him the truth. And tomorrow, she'll work on getting to Annica. It'll be hard to do. She's at Hogwarts. She can't go to Hogsmeade either. She's only in her first year. She'll be safer than he was. She looks at Andrew.

"I'm your Mummy. Your real Mummy."

He shakes his head. He gets upset. She hates his crying. He needs to stop. He's still crying, still screaming. Still calling out for the mother who isn't really his mother. Lavender hates it. How dare Ron take his children away and poison their minds with those lies. He took them away, and she tried to modify her memory. That's why she couldn't remember. Not until a few weeks ago. Oh, yes. She remembers now. He left her. He took the children. She hated the feeling, she modified her memory. She lived peacefully for years. And then she remembered, and she sought them out, and she waited.

"SHUT UP!"

She slaps him, he falls silent. He stares at her. She blinks. She just hit her baby. Her baby. Her baby. Her baby. He's her baby, not Hermione's. Her baby. Just like Annica is. Annica. Annica might remember her. Annica might accept it. Andrew was too young. Andrew can't remember. But Annica… Annica might remember her real mother.

"Eat your sandwich, play with your toys. In a little bit, you'll take a bath. And then you'll go to bed."

Her son nods. He eats. She sees the fear in his eyes. It excites her. He might not believe her, but oh, she'll make him believe. She's laughing hysterically when she leaves the room.


	5. Insanity

She wants her Mummy. Her real Mummy, not the woman downstairs who keeps saying she's her Mummy. Andrew wants his Mummy too. Annica doesn't understand why this woman is so convinced that she and Andrew are her children. This woman is not her Mummy. This woman is not the person who has taken care of her and her brother for as long as either of them can remember. This woman is not the person who's taken care of scraped knees and given them soup when they were sick. No, this person is not their mother. Not in all senses of the word, anyway.

Because Annie knows the truth. Her daddy told her before she went to Hogwarts. Hermione is not her mother. There is another woman, a woman who forced her Daddy into marrying her, who tricked him into getting her pregnant. Annie knows things that Andy doesn't know, and won't know for another couple of years. Or at least, hopefully he won't.

"Annica, darling, would you like a sandwich?"

"Yes Mum."

Andrew stares at her now, confused. Annie looks away, thinking about the story that her Daddy had told her. The woman is coming up the stairs now, and she's bringing soup and sandwiches with her. It's all that they've had since they got here three days ago. Annie's tried to contact her parents, but Lavender won't allow it. Lavender always catches her. It's not something that Annica likes.

"Do you remember me now?"

Annie looks away. The thing is, if she thinks back, if she strains her mind, she can remember a mother who isn't Hermione. She can remember Lavender. A very different Lavender. A pretty woman with a sparkle in her eye who smelled of roses and held her close. But the memory is weak, faded, and blurry. She looks over at Lavender.

"Yes, but you're not my mother."

The slap is not unexpected, but Annica does not cry out. She is stronger than that, and this woman… this woman needs help. After her Daddy told her about what happened to Lavender, she did some research on memory spells. She learned that improperly formed memory spells can wear off and weaken after a certain amount of time. Annica is sure that this is what happened to Lavender.

"I am too. I am. Your Daddy took you away from me. He took you and Andy and went back to _her_."

Annica shakes her head. She refuses to believe that her Daddy, her Mummy, and her grandparents would all lie to her about it. No, she knows the truth. Annica has a theory. She thinks that when the spell wore off, some things were blocked, her memory was changed. Or maybe Lavender changed them herself so she could justify what she was doing. Annica's cheek is still stinging when she looks at the woman.

"No. You tricked him into being with you, and when he finally told you the truth, that he could never love you, you left. You left him, you left Andrew and I. You modified your memory. He has the letter. I've seen it."

She looks over at Andrew, who is staring at her in shock, confused. And when Lavender slaps her again, Annie is caught off guard, and she does cry out, and she does fall back onto the bed. Andrew moves forward, abandoning his food so that he can see if his sister is okay. Annie looks at Lavender. This woman is not the woman that she can remember, even if the memory is vague. This woman shows clear signs of madness. She's filthy, she smells, her hair is a mess, and her eyes… Her eyes are wild. No, this woman, whatever she might be, is not her mother. Not even biologically. Annie can accept that she has two mothers, but this woman is not one of them.

"Lies! He's poisoned your mind, he's turned you against me! He lies!"

The woman is in hysterics. She is tearing her hair out, screaming profanities about her father, and about her mother. And Andrew is scared, and he starts to cry, and Lavender's head snaps toward him. He tries to stifle his crying, but it's too late. Lavender has already heard him call for his Mummy, and for his Daddy. Annica watches as the woman advances toward her brother, trying to think of a way they can escape.

"I AM YOUR MOTHER!"

The force of the blow sends her brother flying away from Lavender, and Annica is frightened. Andrew is still, but she can see him breathing. Lavender turns toward her, but her face has fallen. She's muttering under her breath.

"My baby. I hit my baby. And he's still. My baby my baby. But it's his fault. He told them lies, poisoned their minds. My baby my baby. He never cared about them. He never did. He only cares about his new wife, and that new child of his. The little one. Rose, or something. Yes, I know how to get to him now. My baby my baby. I hit my baby."

Lavender is still muttering when she leaves the room, and Annica gets up and moves to her brother's side. There's nothing she can do but wait for him to wake up. And in the meantime, she will worry about Rosie. Hopefully Rosie will be safe.


	6. A Father's Worst Fear

First, it had been Andrew. He had run off into the crowd of people at the Hogwarts express, making his way to Matthew Longbottom. The two were around the same age, and had played together before. Hermione had been worried, but Ron had said it would be alright, he would be alright. It was only after Annica had boarded the train and they saw the Longbottoms leaving that he realized that maybe things wouldn't be alright. Andrew hadn't made it across the platform to his friend, and no one seemed to remember seeing him go anywhere.

Now, it was Annica. He stares at the letter, trying to make sense of it. Hogwarts. She had been taken from her bed at Hogwarts. How? Hogwarts was supposed to be safe! As if he hadn't had enough to worry about, with Andrew missing. Now it was Annica, his baby girl. Well, one of them at least. He tosses the letter aside, putting his head in his hands. At first, they had thought that Andrew's kidnapping might have been by someone who just wanted a child. Now Annica was gone. This wasn't coincidence. Someone was after his children, but he didn't know who it was.

He pulls his face out of his hands, staring at the other piece of parchment on the desk. So far, it's blank. He can't think of anyone who would want his children. As far as he knows, he has no enemies. He hasn't even put anyone in Azkaban yet, so it's not the family of someone he came across as an auror. He stares at it, eyes blurring with unshed tears. Without warning he pounds his fist against the wood. Why his children? Why them?

He stands up and begins pacing. No one has any leads. No one knows who would want them. No one knows where they are. He's worried about their safety, and about them, and about Rose. Hermione has her right now. They refuse to let her out of their sight, something that she doesn't like at the moment. Rosie wants to be independent, so her mother keeping her within tight reins is not something she likes right now. Already her tantrums are increasing, which means things are getting broken. Those were one of the risks of raising magical children.

As he paces, he hears the door open and shut, he hears the sounds of pounding feet, and suddenly his wife is in the room, sobbing. She presses her face into his chest, and for a moment he doesn't know what to think, what to feel. Out of habit he slides his arms around her. She's saying something, but he can't hear. He wonders where Rose is. If Hermione is this upset, then she's probably at his mother's.

"I only took my eyes off of her for a second!"

His blood runs cold, and he pushes her away so that he can see her face. There's fear in her eyes, fear and pain, and instantly he knows. Rosie's gone now, too. He breaks away from her completely.

"What happened?"

He loves his wife, yes, but at the moment all he can think is that his youngest girl was with her when she vanished. Now all of his children are missing. Annica and Andrew and Rose. They're all missing.

"Ron… I didn't… I only took my eyes off of her for a second! We were at the park up the street, and she was on the slide, and I heard a noise behind me, and… and… I heard a loud crack, and a muffled scream, and… and Rose was gone. Just gone! And no one saw who took her, and… and… Ron, I'm sorry!"

It occurs to him that it isn't her fault. She turned around to look for the source of the noise because she was worried about Rose, and who could possibly want her. And in the split second, the person came and took the last of their children. He takes a deep breath, and the anger with his wife fades. He turns to her, looking into her tearstained face just as she begins to get mad and say that it's not her fault. Now, that's more like the Hermione he knows. He moves toward her, pulling her into his arms again.

"We'll find them, honey. We'll find them. I know it's not your fault. We'll find them."

But he didn't know how they could possibly do it. No one had seen the person take any of the children, no one knew anything. Who hated them this badly? Who could possibly be so mad at he and Hermione that he would steal their children, all of their children. In all honesty, his thought when it had been just Andrew and Annica was that it was someone related to Lavender, who thought he didn't deserve his children. But if that was the case, why would they go after Rosie, who was the only child he and Hermione had together? Why would they go after a child so young? He didn't know, he just didn't know.

"We'll find them."

He repeated it, praying to whatever higher power there was that it would be true.


	7. Burning

They were missing. Annica, Andrew, and Rose were all missing. Andrew had been taken in the middle of a crowded train station. Annica had gone missing from Hogwarts. And Rose… Rose had been taken from right in front of her mother's nose. How was this possible, and why, why were they targeting her youngest son's family? No one else was having any problems, all of her other grandchildren were safe, and Annie, Andy, and Rosie were the only missing children at the moment. So whoever it was was targeting Ron specifically. Or Hermione specifically. Molly Weasley could think of no one who would want to do such a thing. Who would want to harm them?

Not even Lavender would want to. Lavender had left willingly. She'd given Ron the children, told him to go back to Hermione. Why would she be so angry with him now? And why go after Rose, if it was her children she was after? And anyway, hadn't she removed her memory or something of the sort? Surely she didn't even know who Ron and her children were. She probably had big gaps in her memory, but… It didn't make sense, not to this aging grandmother.

She stands, sighing softly to herself as she prepares dinner for her husband. He'll be coming home soon, and he'll want food when he does. She's distracted, so she lets the water overflow. She lets the chicken burn, and she has to start all over again, throwing the burnt food out into the garden for the cats that have suddenly made their home near the Burrow to eat. She starts the food again, paying closer attention, and trying not to burn it this time. It's been ages since she burnt something, though the first two months of her marriage had been mostly burnt food.

The door opens, and she looks up from the stove. "Arthur, you're home early!" she says. But it's not her husband who walks in. It's her youngest son, and he's holding one of those ridiculous muggle tapes that Arthur keeps watching. Molly frowns. "What's going on, Ron?"

"Half the auror office has begun looking for them. They've followed every lead they can, but it's all dead ends. Until now. You see, muggles have these things called cameras, and the cameras record what's going on. The park that we lost Rosie at has one. We need dad's televisor or whatever the hell it's called to look at it. They wouldn't let us look at the tape while we were in the place they kept it, and they don't have anything at the Ministry that I can use."

Molly pauses. "I don't know how to work it. If you can wait until your father gets home, I'm sure he'll let you." She can hardly believe that her husband's strange muggle obsession will be useful. The door opens again, and this time it's Hermione. Molly smiles and hugs her, and Hermione looks at Ron, and then at Molly. "If you show me where Arthur keeps the television and VCR, we can finish this quickly." Hermione is pale, and Molly is concerned, but mostly because she knows that look. She shows them to the room, but draws Hermione aside after she's set things up for Ron to watch.

"You're pregnant, dear."

Hermione nods, looking to the closed door where Ron is waiting, hoping to see the person who took his youngest daughter, and probably all three of his children. "I'm afraid, Molly. I know I should be happy, Ron's always wanted another boy, but… what if whoever this is finds out? What if they go after me next? I don't know who they're trying to hurt, but can you imagine what it'll do to Ron if he loses all of us? I… I don't know what to do." Molly doesn't know what to say, and doesn't have to say anything, because a shout from behind the closed door alerts them, and they run into the room.

Gasps come form the two women, and Ron is staring at the screen in a state of shock. Because in that paused moment on the screen, you can see Hermione, her head turned away, and you can see Rose, and you can see Lavender taking her.

"Lavender."

Ron speaks first. "I can't believe it. I thought… I didn't think it was possible… I thought…" He buries his face in his hands, because now he knows. It's his fault. It's his ex wife, it's the mother of two of his children who's making their lives miserable, who's upsetting his wife so badly she gets sick. He says nothing, he doesn't cry. Molly moves toward him, resting her hand on her son's shoulder. "We know who it is now, Ron. You can find her. You can get them back."

And he nods wordlessly, and above them, Molly's chicken is burning again.


	8. Window

Somehow, they had figured it out. Her face was now plastered in the Daily Prophet, on the walls of shops, even in muggle newspapers and on their televisions. They were onto her; they knew that she had the children. She still hadn't decided what to do with them. Annica and Andrew… they were hers. She could take them and run. It was her right. _She_ was their mother, _she_ had felt them kick in her stomach, _she_ had given birth to them. Not Hermione. Not that… that stupid, frizzy haired bookworm who'd stolen his heart from her just as easily as she'd stolen the children's hearts.

But the little one. Rose, or whoever, she was not Lavender's. Rose belonged strictly to Hermione and Ron. She had first taken the little girl as a way to get back at Ron. It was only after she had seen the child, small and scared and crying, that she had realized how wrong she had been. Maybe she had a right to take Annica and Andrew, but she didn't have any right to Rose. Maybe she could leave the little girl somewhere. Someone would recognize her and return her.

For Annie and Andrew, she had a plan. She would cut Annie's hair, and Andrew's. She could charm it darker, browner, charm their eyes a different color as well. She could change it, and modify their memories. She would do it well this time. No. She would replace their memories. The charms could easily be removed and broken, but if they were in another country, and they didn't look anything like they had while they were here… Maybe she could get away with it. She could have her babies back.

She stares at her reflection in the cracked mirror. Her hair is a mess, her eyes are slightly wild, and she smiles to herself as she reaches for her lip gloss. Before long, she will look like herself again. And she'll have her babies. She'll give Rose back. Rose doesn't know Lavender's name, and is only four. And by they time they find a way to track her, Lavender and her children will be long gone. She starts laughing.

Lavender is laughing again. Annica can hear her. She laughs a lot, but it is insane laughter. It isn't the happy laughter of her mother, or of her father. It is hysterical laughter. Rosie is in her lap, and Annica strokes her hair lightly. Annica and Rose look much alike. Their hair is the same shade of red, though Rose's hair is a bit more bushy, like their mother's. They have the same freckle pattern as well. Both of them have blue eyes. Andrew has blue eyes too. But Andrew… now that she looks at him, she can see it. He looks more like Lavender than she does. She wonders what her Daddy thinks when he looks at Andrew.

It's late, Annica can see this. The sun has been down for what seems like forever. The three children are on the bed. Annica is sitting with her back to the wall, Rose is curled up in her lap. Andrew is at the foot of the bed, curled into a ball. Annica can see the mark on his face, though it's faded slightly. Annica doesn't know what will happen, but Andrew needs to learn to simply go along with it. He needs to stop denying that their mother isn't biologically their mother. It only makes Lavender mad. Annica can see that the woman is unstable.

How would Andrew have taken it if this had never happened? When their Daddy told him about Lavender, would he still have said it wasn't true? Would he still deny it? Annica thinks so. He and his mother are close. She and her Daddy have always been closer than she and her mother. Or, the woman who counts as her mother. Andrew wouldn't like to think that Hermione wasn't really his mother. Annica can see that no matter what, she is.

Rose starts crying, and Annica shushes her hurriedly. Lavender doesn't like crying. Not even from four year olds who are scared and miss their Mummy and Daddy. Annica wonders how they're getting out of here.

Andrew is not sleeping, though his sister thinks he is. He can't sleep. His mind is reeling. He's come to accept it now, though he wouldn't at first. His mother is not really his mother. His mother is the crazy woman who smells and hits him. How is that possible? He had always thought that his mother was the woman who smiled and smelled of sugar cookies, who slept in the same bed as his Daddy and kisses him goodnight. He had always thought that this mother was the woman who dresses up and then blushes when Daddy says that she looks nice. He had always thought his mother was the woman who sang him to sleep, who holds him, who fixes his scrapes. Apparantly, he was wrong.

Annica never had any trouble believing it. From the very beginning, Annica called the crazy woman Mum, or mother. Annica smiles at her, and it makes him mad. Then, Rose came. The crazy woman got Rosie too, and Annica, that traitor, has been taking care of her. Even now, Rosie is cuddled up in Annica's lap. Andrew wants to scream, to pull Rose away from his big sister. He's worried that Annica's caught whatever disease is making the woman crazy, and that Rose will catch it. But he doesn't want Rose to cry and get hurt, so he does nothing.

The sun is rising on their third week here.

It's dark. She wants her Mummy. She wants her Daddy. She wants her purple blankie. She wants Mr. Moo Moo. Annie is here. Annie is holding her. Annie smiles and says it's okay. Andy doesn't talk to Annie, and Rose doesn't understand why. But it's nice to see them again. It's dark, and Annie shushes her as she starts to cry for her Mummy. Someone is laughing, but it's scary laughing. She doesn't like it. She doesn't like the cracked window, or the creaky floorboards, or the dust. Her house is never this dirty. Her Mummy cleans it. She sticks her thumb in her mouth, and crawls off of Annie's lap, over to Andy.

He reaches out and grabs her quickly, and she squirms. She wants to go back to Annie now. Annie's bigger, and the scary lady doesn't hurt her. Andy gets hurt all the time. Rose can see the mark. She smiles at him, and kisses his cheek as his grip relaxes. She kisses the mark again, and then smiles. "All better!" she announces. "Kisses make owies better. Mummy says so, right Andy?" And then Andy does a funny thing. He looks at Annie strangely, like he's angry, and then he nodes. "Yes she does."

And outside the cracked window, a bird is singing.


	9. Lead

They've been missing for three weeks now. They know who took them. He's putting in overtime, trying to find them. His children, taken by his ex wife. If he had never been with Lavender, this wouldn't be happening. He and Hermione wouldn't be miserable, wouldn't be missing their children. But he wouldn't have Annica and Andrew either. He lets out a shout of frustration, and then a soft sob. It's his fault, it's all his fault. If he had never told Lavender the truth that night, he would still be with her, and Hermione could be with someone else. Someone without the kind of history he had. Someone without the crazy ex wife. Maybe Viktor Krum.

She wouldn't be feeling this kind of misery, and his children would be safe. He remembers when he was with Lavender, when they were the only thing that got him through it. They were the only source of happiness in his life at that point, and now that they're gone, and the woman he loves is so upset, he doesn't know what to do. There have been no new leads. No one's seen Lavender recently. Her parents don't know where she is, she has no siblings or other relatives she would contact. She might not even be in the country. It's taken too long. Far, far too long.

"Weasley! We've got a lead!"

He jumps up, knocking over the picture of his family in the process. "What is it?" He asks, praying to whatever higher power there is that this lead will be a good one. "A muggle's seen her, coming in an out of an abandoned house. He called the hotline thing, said that he thought she was just a homeless beggar in need of a place to stay. No word about the children." But even without word about his children, it's the best news he's heard in a long time.

"Where is it, and who's going with me?" He says, and the man begins listing the aurors who'll be accompanying him. He nods. "And my wife?" He asks, suddenly fearing for her safety. "We've got an auror there with her. She's safe." Ron nods, pulling on his coat as his children's faces rush through his mind. They're so close, he can feel it. This is it.

Ginny's not pleased that he's here, but he's one of the best aurors there is, and Ron's his best friend. He's not just going to let him do this alone. If it was his children who were missing, Ron would do the same for him. These are his nieces and nephew that they're going to be saving. They had just talked to the muggle who had called it in. He said the woman had started coming and going about a month ago, that he had thought she was a homeless beggar, as the abandoned house was often a safe house for them. But they had already known all of that.

The house was right across the street from the muggle man's. The porch was crumbling, and windows were cracked. It was snowing, and Harry knew that if the children were in there, they were probably cold. He wondered about their well being. He was close to them, he always had been. When he and Ginny had been having their problems, he had spent nearly everyday at Ron's, playing with Annica and Andrew, and holding Rose, who had only been about six months old at the time. He looks at Ron, and at the other auror who's come with them. Nodding, Ron unlocks the door with his wand. He doesn't close it, not wanting to make too much noise. Above them, Harry can hear laughter. Hysteric, feminine laughter.

He can hear a cry as well, though it fades quickly. Ron's face is pale, and Harry knows at once that they've found him. A brief moment's relief, and then it's gone. What about Lavender? They don't know if she's dangerous, if she's waiting for them. Someone is still laughing upstairs, probably Lavender. If it is, she's not sane. That laughter isn't the laughter of a sane person. He wonders, could she have hurt them?

Harry turns to the other auror. "You stay here, by the door." He says. Then he looks to Ron. "I'm going after Lavender. You find the kids." Harry nods, and they set off to search the house.


	10. Inside

She stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is stringy, her face thin. She's no longer the beauty that she was when she was in school. She knows this, and she blames him for it. In the end, she blames everything on him. The fact that her little boy refuses to believe the truth. She hates him for it. Annica knows the truth, but Lavender knows she doesn't really care. Of course not. Annica was always Ron's little girl. His baby. Andrew was always Lavender's. Mummy's little boy, Daddy's little girl... everything had been so perfect once. Why, why had he had to go and ruin it? Why had he gone and erased her memory and stolen the children? Was he really that unhappy with her? Did he really hate her that much?

She hears the door open, she hears voices, and she starts laughing. It's about time they showed up. Now she can take care of things. Now she can take care of things, and everything will be okay again. She'll make him see the error of his ways. She'll make him want her again. If she can alter his memory... Yes. They can be a family again. She'd have to do the children as well... But it would be okay in the end. The little one can go back with Hermione. Let them suffer for a little while, while Lavender and Ron raise their family the way that they should have been doing. Yes, things will be okay now.

---

The stairs are crooked, and as he walks up them, he's afraid that they'll collapse. Someone is still laughing, and he knows who it is now. He looks at Harry, who will be going after the kids. There aren't many rooms to search. He thinks he hears a cry from another room, and Harry is already heading toward it. Ron wants to know if it's them, if they're okay, but he also knows that he has to be the one to go after Lavender. It wouldn't be right if it was anyone else.

---

Annica bites her lip. Andrew is at her side, Rose is curled up on the bed, her head in her older sister's lap. She'd heard noises, heard voices, and she wonders if, finally, someone has found them. Three weeks is too long. She's been keeping track of the days. One tally for each day since they had been taken. She wants to go home. She wants to go home, and then go back to Hogwarts. She wants to call out to the people, to let them know where they are, but something holds her back. What if it's not someone who's looking for them? What if it's someone else? That thought is enough to keep her quiet.

Rose cries out. She's had a nightmare, and Annica quickly tries to shush her. Footsteps are moving quickly toward the door, and Annica knows it's only a matter of time before they meet the newcomer. She pulls her siblings close, and everything seems to be in slow motion as the doorknob turns. When the door opens, Rose's face lights up, and so does Andrew's, but Annica is wary.

"Uncle Harry?"

It might not be him, she knows this. There are spells and potions that can change their appearance. She tries to think of a question to ask him, something that can let her know if it is him, really and truly him. She watches as he grins at her, and feels Rose pulling out of her grip, scrambling toward her uncle... or the man who might not be her uncle. His grin fades to something more serious.

"Come on. We have to get you out of here."

Annica shakes her head.

"What did you get me for my 9th birthday?"

She watches as he grins at her.

"A chess set. You crushed me when we played. Now come on, Annie."

Annica smiles and stands up. That's good enough for her. She can only assume her father is in the house too, somewhere. Maybe he's going after Lavender. As her uncle pulls something out of his pocket and sets up a portkey, Annica hopes that he'll be alright, and that Lavender will get the help she needs.

**//Author's Note//**

**Oh my God. I am so, so sorry for the delay in updates. My life got rather hectic, and I was without a computer for awhile, and then I lost my muse... and I started a new school, and I just couldn't find the time. I swear, things will start moving rather quickly now that things are settling down. There aren't many chapters left, so I hope I haven't lost any old fans through the immense delay. Also, if I did not reply to a review you left, I apologize.**

**--Kayleigh**


	11. Over

Someone's coming up the stairs. She can hear them, their footsteps echoing on the creaking and moaning stairs. The footsteps are too heavy to be any of the children, and it wouldn't be them anyway. They don't go downstairs without her. They don't leave their room. So it has to be someone else. Their voices are hushed, clearly trying to keep their voices down. But she can hear them. It's so quiet in this place, of course she can hear them. Lavender takes a few tentative steps across the room, pressing herself to the wall next to the door. She pulls out her wand. She doesn't know who they are. She doesn't care. Lavender's finally made some plans. She's finally figured it out. She knows how she and her children will start their lives together. No one's going to take that from her.

It takes every ounce of self control that Ron has not to go with Harry and make sure his children were okay. He knows that if he sees them, he'll never be able to leave them and finish this. And he has to be the one to finish this. He knows it, can feel it with every step he takes toward where he'd heard the laughter. This is his responsibility. His wand is out as he opens the door. There's no movement, but he's sure that this is the room Lavender's been staying in. It at least looks as if it's been inhabited. He knows that walking into the room will be stupid. He can't see anyone from his spot at the door, but he just has this feeling that someone's there. That she's there. So he steps inside.

It's too quiet. He can't see anyone. And then the door slams behind him. He turns around, wand at the ready, and there she is. But he can't believe it's her. She's thinner than he remembers her to be. Her hair is stringy, greasy, unkempt. Her clothes are faded and messy. But it's her eyes that surprise him most. There's something wild in them, but at the same time... they're dead. There's no sparkle. There's no joy. Maybe he had never loved Lavender, and maybe he had resented her for trapping him the way that she did... but he had cared about her, in a weird way. He can't believe that she's ended up like this.

"You-"

She cuts him off, which is fine with him. He doesn't know what to say anyway.

"So. You found me. Congratulations! Oh, and by the way, _expelliarmus_!"

His wand flew across the room, and Ron could have kicked himself for letting his guard down.

"There are more aurors coming, Lavender. It's over."

"Over? Over? It's not over! You don't get to win this!"

Ron moved a few inches toward his wand, keeping an eye on Lavender. She didn't seem to notice. He would have to keep her talking long enough to reach his wand.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Why? You're asking me why? Because they're mine! They're my children, and you took them from me! You took them, and you left, and you went back to her!"

Ron can see it now. She's crazy. Crazier than he'd realized. If she had really come to believe that he was the one who had left, then she would have to be. He inched a little closer to his wand.

"No, you're the one who left."

"Liar! You took them! You took them and I couldn't handle the pain, so I erased my memories! But it didn't work! It didn't work, and they came back, and I knew! I had to punish you! I had to get them back!"

"I'm not lying. You left. I have the letter."

"Stop lying! You lied to Annie and Andrew too! You took them from me and filled their heads with lies, and now they hate me!"

Lavender was rambling, and Ron reached down quickly and picked up his wand, stunning her just as the aurors started to pour into the room. He looked at her as the aurors picked her up, and then turned away, heading out of the room. It was done. It was over with. And now, he wanted to see his children.


	12. Family

She walked through the doors of St. Mungo's, passing the welcome witch and heading straight to the staircase. She ascended the stairs, coming out on a landing. She smiled at a Healer who passed her by, and then pushed open a door. Tucking a lock of slightly bushy red hair behind her ear, she walked past the older man who always insisted on giving her an autograph, past the beds of the people she knew to be the Longbottoms, and to the bed at the end of the ward. The woman lying in it was staring up at the ceiling.

"Hi."

The woman sat up, looking at her.

"Hello. Who are you?"

Annica sighed softly, forcing a smile.

"Annica."

"Annica... my daughter's name is Annica, you know. But we always call her Annie. Just turned four, bless her. She's such a sweetheart."

Annica continued to smile.

"I bet she is. How are you feeling today?"

"Feeling? I'm feeling fine. I just wish that they would let me go home. I'm sure my children are wondering where I am. Could you ask the Healers when I'm allowed to leave?"

"Of course. But, um, listen, I have to go. Okay?"

"Alright. It was nice to meet you, Annica."

Annica stood up. It had been a brief visit, but then again, these always were. Annica knew her mother's diagnosis. The inexpertly performed memory charm had started to wear off, and in order to make what had happened make sense, Lavender had created a false set of memories to fill the holes. It was a delusion of some sort. After being captured and taken to St. Mungo's, her mind had apparently unraveled completely. Lavender now believed that she was in St. Mungo's only temporarily, that Annica was still four and Andrew was still a toddler. The Healers couldn't explain it. Her brain was fine. Her memory center was fine. It looked like the delusion was something that regenerated itself every day. Something Lavender had created to protect herself.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she left St. Mungo's. She was seventeen, just graduated Hogwarts. She was the only one who ever went to see Lavender. Andrew refused, just like Andrew had always refused. Rose could barely remember anything that could happened, having been so little at the time. And Hugo hadn't even been born yet. Annica knew that Lavender would probably never recognize her, never remember everything that she had done. But Annica was okay with that. It was easier to go and see her when she had no idea who she was. She apparated back to her house, walking inside.

Her Dad smiled at her, slightly knowingly. Rose was chattering about how excited she was that she got to go to Hogwarts next year. Andrew refused to look at her. He always did after she came back from seeing Lavender. She watched as her father walked over to her, pulling her into a hug.

"I'm sure she'll remember someday."

His voice was soft, and Annica pulled back, smiling a little and shaking her head.

"Maybe. But it's okay if she doesn't. She's not really family anyway."

* * *

**/Author's Note/ So... hi. First off, I'd really like to apologize for not finishing this story sooner. I would also like to apologize for the total crap of these last two chapters. Real life got in the way, and I lost my inspiration, and just... never got around to finishing it. I'm sure the last thing any of you who have my story on alert expected was for this two be updated. I mean, the last update was two years ago! But I know how frustrating it is to not have an ending, so I threw something together to explain what had happened. If any of my former readers end up reading this, then once again, I'm sorry. I hope this is alright, even though I kind of hate both chapters. Hopefully it'll provide a bit of a resolution for you.**

**- Kyla.  
**


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